


Secondhand Heart

by Forforcesakes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Banter, Discussions of death, Eventual HEA, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hard Rey, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Rating May Change, Sexual Tension, Side Finn/Poe - Freeform, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Soft Ben, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, They're both emotionally constipated, its angsty but i'm hoping the banter and pining will dilute it a bit, photographer Ben
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forforcesakes/pseuds/Forforcesakes
Summary: “Okay,” Ben says, putting down his slice of pizza, “So do you believe in fate?”She narrows her eyes at him, still chewing her fourth slice of pizza, and for a moment Ben wonders if he said the wrong thing.“Fate as in soulmate type fate, or, like, everything-happens-for-a-reason fate?” asks Rey.“Both, I guess.”She sets her pizza down, pink lips twitching as she thinks. “Well, I guess it’s more of a question of free will, you know? Do we actually choose things in our life or is some cosmic plan in place just giving us the illusion of choice? And then when it comes to soulmates, why would the universe give us soulmates but never let us meet them? What’s the point of that then?”“Maybe it was supposed to lead us to something else,” said Ben.Rey scoffs and tucks a stray wave of hair behind her ear. “Do you really think the cosmos wanted you to be here, soulmate-less, jobless, living with your mom, and eating shitty pizza on the hood of an even shittier car?”Yeah, Ben thinks,if it’s with you.OR: a Soulmate AU where Ben and Rey aren’t soulmates but might as well be.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’ve only recently gotten back into fic, but I am very excited to work on this! This is basically a love letter to both the Reylo ship and everything I adore most in fanfiction: angst, found family, banter, pining, and unconventional Soulmate AUs. 
> 
> A few things for anyone who doesn’t enjoy surprises: 
> 
> 1\. Rey and Ben are not actually soulmates, but I hope their character development and relationship are just as genuine, relatable, and satisfying as if they were.  
> 2\. There are lots of discussions of death and grief throughout. I don’t intend for it to be triggering; however, I saw it best to give advanced warning to anyone concerned as it does play a large part in the story.  
> 3\. Many scenes at the start of the fic revolve around a grief group. While I have experience with therapy, I do not have a lot of experience with support groups of this nature. Feel free to let me know if anything is inappropriate!  
> 4\. Tags will be updated as I go, so keep an eye on that.
> 
> Finally, shout out to my sister for being my beta and pretending she cares about fanfic or star wars!

Rey has forgotten where she was going, again, and she’s pretty sure it’s all Finn’s fault. 

“Come on Rey, you said last week that you would go.” 

Rey rolls her eyes as she brushes past him, turning sideways in the narrow space between the shelves so she could lift the stack of books in her arms above his head without dropping them. He’s going to start getting annoyed soon and is about four and a half minutes away from using his official-teacher-voice that makes Rey feel like she’s 16 years old again and just got caught smoking in the bathroom during lunch. Which, of course, she never did. She finds the shelf she was looking for, “Russian Historical Fiction”, a few rows down from where Finn is standing and starts attempting to shove some of the books in her hands on to the already overflowing shelves. 

“I wanted to stay to close up.” She said, calling across the stacks while pushing a particularly stubborn hardback into place. "It's a three-day weekend and Maz is hoping it's busier and I was hoping for the extra hours." 

She continues her search, now looking for “Occult Studies”, expertly maneuvering through the stacks in hopes to get away from Finn, who she now hears attempting to follow her. She’s lying, they both know that, but she’s not ready to have this conversation with him again. Her throat feels like its closing up at the thought of following Finn out the door, and heat is rising into her cheeks despite the cold air coming through the drafty rooms of the old building.

Hands now empty, she starts weaving her way back towards the front of the store. She takes a few deep, steadying breaths, smelling the musty scent of the secondhand books. Maz is sitting on her stool behind the oval counter in the frontmost room of the store, flipping through a crate of recently donated texts. She doesn’t look up when Rey quickly scoops up another arm full of books and starts to turn back towards the stacks. 

Finn’s arm shoots out in front of Rey, stopping her from slipping through the aisles again. She’s momentarily surprised he caught up with her and opens her mouth to say so, but he holds up a hand to stop her. _Stupid teacher Finn_. 

“You’re a fucking liar, you never work here on Friday nights. We’re not having this conversation again, get your coat. I’ll drive,” he said, spinning on the heels of his sneakers and walking directly out the rickety glass front door, the little bell hanging over it jingling ominously behind him. There’s nothing she can do now; she’s lived with Finn long enough to know when his mind is made up.

Rey sighs and turns back towards the front counter. "Hey Maz, I'm headed out. I'll see you Sunday," she calls out, putting the stack of books down and pulling out her oversized black Sherpa jacket from the cabinet under the cash register. Maz doesn't respond, instead, she moves her small hand in a noncommittal wave as Rey makes her way through the overcrowded front of the store and out the door.  
The cold January air hits her like a wall, freezing the breath in her lungs and making her whole body tense and she pulls her thin jacket tighter around her frame. Finn is leaning against the driver’s side of his car looking at his phone. When he spots her walking through the parking lot, his face splits into a wide smile and Rey feels a pang of guilt. He is just trying his best to help her. 

“Oh, thank god you came, I was about thirty seconds away from coming back in and dragging your ass out of there kicking and screaming. You know Maz would be so pissed if we broke any more displays,” Finn says, unlocking the car. 

Rey climbs into the passenger seat, desperate for him to turn on the heat. She’s only wearing a thin long sleeve shirt under her jacket and she can feel the chill giving her goosebumps up her arms. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure the ‘Children’s Horror Stories’ shelves will never be the same after last time, but honestly, I’m not sure if it was a huge loss. Maz might actually stick to her word and ban you from the diner officially this time, though.” She struggles to keep the smile out of her voice despite the nerves coiling in her stomach. 

“Nah, Maz likes me too much for that,” Finn says, smirking as he pulls into the main road

***

When Finn mentioned that there was a soulmate grief group being held at his school on Fridays, Rey’s first instinct was to get up and leave the room. Her second instinct, which will have to do because Finn has ambushed her _in her own room, the jerk,_ was to ask, “Why is a grief group being held at a high school?”

She remembers how his face morphed from an attempt at being casual to barely contained shock; apparently, he expected a much different reaction from his roommate of five years. “Uh, the community center is being renovated and the woman who runs it, Holdo, is a friend of the principal.” 

Rey doesn’t remember the details of the rest of the conversation, it blends in with all the other times Finn has attempted to get Rey to talk about her feelings. It would be so much easier if he didn't care so much, didn't look at her with the same look he must give to misbehaving students in his history class – a look so hard to ignore it's how Rey ended up sitting in one of those ridiculous desks with the chair attached in what appears to be a cafeteria combined with an auditorium. 

Finn's giving her the same look now, one part encouraging and one part sympathetic, from where he's sitting in the desk next to her. As uncomfortable as she is currently under the cold fluorescent lights above her, she's hit with a sudden wave of gratitude towards her best friend. He has literally no way of understanding how she's been feeling for the past few weeks, Finn hasn't found his soulmate yet, but she's pretty sure she would still be curled up into the ball he found Rey in the day that her soulmate died if it wasn’t for him.

Rey shakes her head quickly as if to dismiss the thought and focuses her attention on the others in the circle of desks. She and Finn are the youngest ones in the room by a pretty large margin with the majority being middle-aged or older. There are still a few minutes left before the meeting officially starts, and the other group members get comfortable in their desks/chairs and chat with those next to them. 

Everyone, including Rey, looks up when the double doors to the cafeteria are opened suddenly. A short man, with a face so red it looks sunburnt, holds the door open for a woman with stunning purple hair cropped to her chin to walk in, carrying a large white box in her thin arms. 

“Hello everyone, I’m sorry for running behind! I wanted to pick up some treats for today, as it’s quite a feat to do anything except lay in bed when the weather is getting this nasty.” The woman puts the box down at a lunch table that was pushed up against the wall next to the door and opens it to reveal donuts from the coffee shop a few shops down from Maz's bookstore. Her stomach grumbles at the sight. 

“I recognize a few new faces today, so for those who don’t know, I’m Dr. Holdo.”

Rey feels Dr. Holdo’s eyes pass over her and Finn as she makes her way to the open desk closest to the large stage that takes up the majority of the back wall of the room. She shrugs off a long, expensive-looking grey coat as she walks and the click of her high heel shoes echo in the quickly quieting room. The short man who came in with her took the desk directly to her right. 

Rey feels a wave of nervous energy pass over her, making her throat close and fingertips tingle. The only experience she has with therapy is with social workers when she was a child; quick sessions with smiling adults offering candy from glass jars as they ask about Rey's parents. Is giving out food a therapist thing? Will she be forced to talk? Is Finn going to be kicked out for not having a real reason to be there? Can she grab a donut? Finn must have noticed Rey's breathing pick up because he is quick to reach over and give her arm a reassuring squeeze. She gives him a look that she hopes says _"I'm okay, I just would rather be anywhere else.”_

Dr. Holdo clears her throat and brushes her bright hair back out of her face. “I’m so happy to see you all here today,” she says, almost sickeningly genuine. “It takes great courage to acknowledge pain and realize that you are no longer able to handle it on your own. I would like to remind everyone that this is a safe space, and no one has to participate in anything they do not want to. I’d like to start with some introductions --”

A puff of air leaves Rey’s lungs, her body sinking into the chair with relief. She’s no longer listen to what Holdo is saying, instead she focuses back on taking deep breaths. She doesn’t have to talk about anything she doesn’t want to, thank fuck, but she still has to sit through the rest of the meeting with some semblance of respect for the rest of the group. 

She listens to each person introduce themselves, each briefly mentioning something about their career or family and mentioning the death of their soulmates. The red-faced man next to Holdo, Ackbar, is a war veteran who met his soulmate while overseas. They were together forty years before she passed. The next person, a tall serious looking woman who says her same is Phasma (Rey instantly files that as something to talk to Finn about later, as it sounds like a villain straight out of the Galaxy Wars series) mentions how her soulmate of twenty years died in a boat crash. And on it goes, each member of the circle stating their name, occupation, and tragic death of their soulmate like the most depressing camp ice breaker to ever exist. 

With each person, Rey’s heart starts beating faster. She is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that she doesn't belong in this group, with her ink-stained fingertips and too-thin jacket. Everyone in the circle had a life – _families too_ , Rey thinks, _happy families with smiling children and golden retrievers_ \-- that was irrevocably changed when the most significant person in their life disappeared. She wonders if the pain she felt that day, the kind that ripped through her middle and radiated towards every nerve in her body, was less than theirs; as if not knowing her soulmate was almost preferable. 

Before she could ruminate in that thought, Finn was speaking up. 

“Hi, I’m Finn, I teach history in this school, which is how I heard about the group, but I’m really here as moral support for my friend, Rey,” he said, looking towards her and giving a reassuring smile. 

The rest of the group’s gaze followed Finn’s, settling on Rey, and her skin prickles with the sudden attention. She takes a quick breath, silently wishing she had her roommate's public speaking skills and says "Uh, I'm Rey. I work in a secondhand bookstore and sometimes an auto shop. I'm not sure if this is the right group for me because my soulmate died four months ago, and I never knew them."

She stares defiantly around the room, despite the heat rising in her cheeks as if expecting for the rest of the group to boo and hiss her out the door. Nothing happens though, it's eerily quiet suddenly in the large room until Dr. Holdo breaks the silence.

“Rey, you are welcome in this group as much as anyone else,” She said, making steady eye contact with Rey. Other members of the group nod in agreement, sending both her and Finn kind looks. “I’m very glad you made the decision to come here today. You don’t have to share if you don’t want to yet, you can just listen for now.”

At a sudden loss for words, Rey can do nothing but nod. Whatever embarrassment she feels at being singled out is dwarfed with a feeling of relief.

The rest of the hour goes on easily as Rey sinks into her chair, listening to the stories and thoughts of the members of the group. Some cry, some express anger, and some do nothing but recount the happiest memories, all while Dr. Holdo gives words of support and encouragement. It's sort of…nice, in an emotionally draining way. She's never been good with other people's emotions, but the conversation flows so easily. She finds herself relating to the words of the others, words of loneliness and injustice and pain, even if she still worries that she hasn’t earned the ability to feel that way. 

When she and Finn stand up, stretching out of the uncomfortable chairs and pulling their jackets on, she finds herself telling Finn it wasn’t that bad. They say guarded goodbyes to a few of the members, Rey still feeling a bit awkward, and head towards the door of the cafeteria. She makes a beeline for the donuts Dr. Holdo brought, grabbing two and being secretly pleased when Finn refuses her offer of one.

“Ready to head home, peanut?” Finn said, grinning as Rey struggles to wipe powdered sugar off of her fuzzy jacket. 

“Actually,” she said, “Could we get something to eat? I’m starving and these donuts aren’t cutting it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally intended to have this and the next chapter be combined into one, but it was wayyy too long! Next chapter is shorter from Ben's POV but most chapters after that will have alternating POVs throughout.
> 
> Maz's bookstore is inspired by my favorite place in the world, [ Chamblin Book Mine ](https://www.chamblinbookmine.com/) and if you're ever in North Fl you should check it out if you're a bibliophile like me!
> 
> I'm [ forforcesakes ](https://forforcesakes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! Hit me up about any Q's, I'd love to chat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter from only Ben's POV.

Ben is weaving in and out of the crowds of people on the sidewalk, many stopping to gawk at the elaborate store displays, trying desperately not to hit anyone passing by with the unnecessarily large shopping bags in his hands. 

“Okay, I picked up my mother’s dress for tonight, confirmed the menu with the catering company, and grabbed the backdrop for the photobooth from the printer. Is there anything else you need?” he asks, sparing a second to glance down at his watch. 

_Shit._ He’s late. 

“I think that’s it. Oh damn, wait, do you think –”

“No!” Ben said. He shuffles past an extremely angry looking woman in a cheetah print coat and attempts to move his phone to the other ear. He feels a brief moment of guilt for cutting Rose off, he knows she must be pulling her hair out of stress over his mother’s fundraiser tonight but he’s still in the city and doesn’t want to be late to the meeting. “I have the group thing tonight, remember? Mom already told Amilyn that I would be there but I’m probably going to be late already.”

“You aren’t bailing on the fundraiser tonight, are you?” Ben can hear the panic creeping into Rose’s usually composed voice. 

“No, I’ll be there,” Ben says. “The meeting is only an hour, I should have enough time to grab my camera and equipment beforehand, you just might be on your own overseeing the setup. “

“Damn you Solo, how are we to survive without your freakishly tall stature to secure decorations?” 

Ben scoffs to himself, still only half focusing on what his mother’s assistant is saying to him. The crowded sidewalks around him are slowly thinning, and he says a silent prayer of thanks to the icy cold front that’s blowing in. “You’ll survive. Maybe you could get on Mom’s shoulders, the two of you together make one average-sized person.” 

“Leia would fire me if I mess up her hair,” Rose replies, clearly not amused. “I’ll see you tonight though, I want to hear how the group goes. I’m glad you’re finally going to talk to someone.”

Her voice goes ever so slightly soft towards the end of her sentence, and Ben can feel himself start to flush at the compassion in her words. People have been using that same voice towards him for over a year, always with a tilt of their head or a hand on his shoulder. He knows it’s meant to be sympathetic, even comforting, but something in his insides squirm when that sort of attention is on him. It was part of the reason Leia mention the grief group to him, in hopes of easing his discomfort around the mention of his father or soulmates. But it was never the actual topics that bother Ben, no, it was the pity dripping from the faces of those around him that made things hard to talk about. Most people couldn’t fathom what he was feeling, so their sympathy comes off hollow or unnatural. 

Most of the time, Ben wasn’t sure what he was feeling either. 

He rushes a quick goodbye to Rose, hanging up after one more assurance that yes, he will change into something more formal for the event and no, he won’t try to bring Chewy. 

The time on his phone reads 4:52. 

_Sorry Amilyn, I’m going to be a bit late._ Though, he suddenly finds himself no longer in a rush. 

***

 _‘Why the fuck is a grief group being held at a high school?’_ Ben thinks to himself as he walks through the eerily quiet hallways. The last time he had walked these halls he was as an awkward eighteen-year-old, just trying to make it to AP World History without being harassed by anyone wearing their name on a lettered jacket. It even smells the same, a nauseating mix of sweat, cheap body sprays, and desperation that’s making his stomach turn over. 

The meeting would be finishing up any minute, Ben gave up on getting there on time, and he can see a small group of people walking out of the cafeteria to the exit on the opposite side of the hall. He’s tempted just to turn around and go home, he missed the important parts anyway, but he just _knows_ that Leia will be checking in with Amilyn in hopes of gaining some insight into her son’s mental state. So, with a sigh, Ben pulls open the doors to the cafeteria. 

He’s struck, first, with how odd the cafeteria (cafetorium? He forgot about the large stage taking up one side) looks with the tables pushed against the walls, and second, with Amilyn Holdo wrestling a desk through a door into what he is assuming the teacher’s lounge at the back of the large room. 

“Hey, let me help you with that,” said Ben, already stacking a few of the desks on top of each other and carrying them across the room. 

“Oh, Ben! Thank you, that would be very helpful,” said Amilyn with a broad smile. “I thought for sure that you had decided to skip the meeting tonight, I was truly dreading having to tell Leia that you didn’t show.”

Ben turned his back to put the desks away in hopes that she wouldn’t see his grimace. “Well, you can tell her I was late and am definitely coming to the next one.” 

“I’m glad, Ben,” said Amilyn, her voice soft. “How are you doing?” 

“I’m okay. Mom is keeping me busy with her events and it feels good to have a break from work,” said Ben as he stacks more desks. 

“And how are you feeling about your soulmate? It’s been over a year now, right?” 

With a small sigh, Ben puts the desks down and nods as he turns towards the purple-haired woman. She’s been friends with Leia for years, often attending the same events, and he has always admired her unique mix of genuine bluntness. She has this uncanny ability to completely look through you as if you were made of glass, but her gaze never turns judgmental. 

“Its…” Ben trails off for a moment, trying to find the appropriate word. “Okay, I guess? It’s been long enough now that the initial shock as worn off. Now the worst part is just being reminded of it anytime someone asks if I have a soulmate.” 

“That makes sense, it has to be hard to live in a world that sometimes seems to revolve around soulmates. It can be lonely. I hope you express some of these feelings next week during the meeting, I know other members often feel the same way,” said Amilyn. 

Ben finishes putting the desks in the teacher’s lounge. He walks over to where she is gathering her things at a table, including what appears to be a half-full box of donuts, against the wall, and leans his hips against it as he crosses his arms. “I’ll try my best to actually be on time next week, but I’m not sure I want to talk about my feelings to a bunch of strangers. I know you’re doing a good thing here, Amilyn, but I’m only here as a favor to my mother.”

She turns suddenly to look at him, purple hair swinging around eyes that seem to bore into him. She doesn’t say anything for a few moments, the only sound in the large room coming from the clock hanging above the door. 

“You know,” she says finally, “there’s another person in the group that had their soulmate pass before they had met.” 

Ben blinks a few times before registering what he has heard. “There’s someone like me?” 

He almost winces at the hope in his voice. 

“Yes, there’s a girl, probably a few years younger than you, that came for the first time today. She mentioned feeling similar to you, a little out of place, but seem to warm up to the group after a while.” 

The thought of talking to someone who is in the same situation as he makes his heart race a little. Everyone around him is always trying to sympathize but most of the time it ends up making him feel worse. But this girl, she’s the same as him; stuck in the same soulmate limbo. 

“I have to head out, but I hope to see you next week, Ben. I’ll introduce you to Rey, maybe you guys could find comfort in your shared experiences,” said Amilyn. She gives him a reassuring pat on his sleeve, hands him a donut from the box in her arms, and walks out the room. 

_Rey. Her name is Rey._

Ben takes a bite out of the donut and heads out of the school, the same three-letter word repeating in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapters should be longer and include both POV! 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr, [Forforcesakes](https://forforcesakes.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Chapter 3

Leia’s fundraiser, despite being lavish with glittering decorations and shiny trays of champagne, is quickly becoming one of Ben’s top 5 most boring events he has ever attended. Everyone around him seems to be enjoying themselves, the round tables across the room filled with well dressed, well off people drinking and laughing and writing checks.

It all makes Ben insanely uncomfortable, and not just because the dark gray suit that Rose had laid out on his bed for him is slightly too small.

An older couple stumbles over to the photo booth, both clearly intoxicated, and begin giggling over the silly props his mother had painstakingly chosen. Happy with their choices, a tall top hat for the man and fuzzy pink boa for the woman, they stand in front of Ben’s camera and start smiling.

He quickly adjusts his camera; the women’s sparkly black dress is causing a glare and starts snapping the photos as the couple beings to progressively drape limbs over each other. He throws out a quick ‘you guys look great’ before turning to his computer and putting together a little photo strip to be printed out. The couple, still giggling and falling over one another, thank Ben delightedly for their photos and walk off quickly towards the dance floor.

Ben quickly turns back to the laptop, saving a particularly funny photo of the man’s hand creeping over the woman’s behind while they pressed their faces together.

“I saw that, Solo.” Rose is looking up at him disapprovingly, but he sees the corner of her mouth quirk up briefly.

“Come on, Tico,” Ben says, sighing as he leans his hips against the table, obscuring her view of his computer screen. “If I’m going to be stuck playing photobooth, the least I can do is save a few discard photos for my personal portfolio.”

“You know Leia would lecture you on personal boundaries, right?” said Rose. She takes a few steps towards Ben’s camera on its tripod and looks through the viewfinder.

“Well if you don’t tattle on me to my mom, I’ll show you the photos later. There is a particularly funny one of a guy sneezing into another person’s wine glass. Hey, don’t touch that! It’s professional equipment.” Ben says, swatting Rose’s hand away from the buttons. He had spent several minutes getting the lighting and settings right because even if he didn’t want to be at the event, the last thing he was going to do was produce shitty pictures.

“Fine, fine. Calm your tits,” said Rose, rolling her eyes. “I’m getting a drink; do you want anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a scotch,” said Ben.

Rose returns a few minutes later, holding two glasses of scotch, lingering off to the side as a group of guests awkwardly squeeze in together for their pictures. Once Ben prints off their images, he quickly turns to Rose and takes one of the glasses from her.

He knows she’s waiting for the right time to ask about the grief group, so before she gets the chance, he asks, “So why did Leia want me to take photos anyway? Why not rent an actual photo booth?”

Rose jumps up to sit on the table next to his computer, her long green dress swishing gracefully over her legs. “She wanted the pictures to be better quality, you know, with your _professional equipment_. Plus, she was probably tired of you sulking around the house.”

Ben scoffs into his drink glass. “I do not _sulk_.”

“Yeah,” says Rose, “you do. Now tell me all about the grief group. Did you cry and talk about your feelings?”

“I did actually. I was very cathartic, though it made my eyes all puffy,” said Ben. He takes another sip of his drink, ignoring the way Rose rolls her eyes at him. “Actually, I was late and missed the meeting. Said hi to Amilyn and told her I would come on time next week. I’m hoping that will be enough to satiate mom when she inevitably asks her about it.”

Rose looks at him, her eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to determine if he is lying or not.

“Actually,” Ben continues, trying to sound casual, “She mentioned that there’s a girl in the group. She’s in the same situation as me, having never met her soulmate.”

He can tell she’s surprised as she sets her drink down slowly and Ben tries not to worry about the alcohol so close to his laptop.

“Damn, really? What are the odds?” said Rose.

“I don’t know,” Ben sighs. “I’ve never met anyone who lost a soulmate like me, it’s incredibly rare. Amilyn said we might want to talk about our ‘shared experiences’, so maybe I’ll introduce myself at the next meeting?”

“Is that weird, though? Like, ‘Hi, I’m Ben and I’ve been depressed for over a year because my soulmate died. Are you also depressed because your soulmate is dead?” Rose says, sarcasm dripping from her words.

Ben, pointedly ignoring her comment, says, “No, I’ll probably just start with an introduction. We can bond over mutual trauma later.”

He doesn’t mention that he already knows her name, he knows Rose would start calling him creepy; or worse, tell Leia. He keeps that little bit of information to himself and finds it comforting. Rey is like him.

“Wait, would that actually be weird? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable,” said Ben, suddenly struck with worry.

Rose gives him a knowing look, and Ben feels heat rise to his cheeks even though he isn’t sure what the look means. He turns and busies himself with his camera, adjusting and readjusting the settings and moving the tripod up and down.

“No, as long as you don’t go into it too intense; you kinda have a tall, brooding thing going on that might turn her off. But if you just go into it to maybe be friends, it shouldn’t be weird,” says Rose.

Ben nods, still pretending to be fiddling with his camera. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

He’s still not sure about the whole grief group thing, he was worried that he would be the only one there that lost this soulmate as he did. He’s used to feeling like an outsider, having a politician mom and ears the size of dinner plates don’t exactly make you popular growing up. But the thought of feeling so excluded in a space that was supposed to be vulnerable and honest, Ben wasn’t sure if he could handle that. But now- now he finds himself looking forward to the meeting next week if nothing else to put a face to the name of the only other person he has heard of like him. Amilyn even said that the girl, Rey, feels out of place too. So surely, she would be just as relieved to have him there?

Before Ben could sink deeper into his thoughts, a hand comes from behind him and ruffles his hair.

“You couldn’t have gotten a haircut before tonight, huh?”

When he turns around, Ben’s mother is looking up at him, her smile as bright as the sparkling purple dress she is wearing.

“I tried,” said Rose still sitting on the table, finishing off her drink. “The best I could do was get him into a suit.”

“I usually like to dress comfortably when I’m shooting,” says Ben, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“I’m not sure if this could be considered _shooting_ , it’s more like pressing a button.”

Before Ben could reply, Leia’s hand shoots up again and tucks his hair behind one of his ears. “Enough you two, you bicker like siblings. Now Ben, won’t you come dance with me, just for a song?”

Ben sighs, looking down into the dark, pleading eyes of his mother. He spares one more glare at Rose before downing the rest of his drink and handing her the glass. Most of the crowd is on the dance floor, swaying to the music being played by the band, so he feels comfortable stepping away from his camera for a moment.

“Please don’t touch anything,” he tells Rose, sticking his arm towards Leia.

Rose, always very professional and mature, sticks her tongue out at him.

His mother leads him to the dance floor where many of the other couples give them warm smiles and nods. Ben hates being paraded around during these events, but Leia has been nothing but welcoming to him over the last year. The least he could do is take a few pictures, dance to a few songs, and shake a few hands.

Leia pulls one of his hands around her back and clasps the other tightly in her other hand like she is trying to lead a child.

“Mom, I know how to dance. And you’re going to have to let me lead.”

“Fine, fine,” Leia mumbles.

They settle into the dance, slowly circling to the beat of the music, the height difference making it slightly awkward. Ben briefly remembers standing on his fathers’ shoes, holding his hands, and spinning around the kitchen as Leia turns up the music. He slightly shakes his head as if to clear the thought away and looks around the room.

“Everything looks really great tonight, Mom.”

“Thank you, darling, I appreciated all your help today. Now, tell me about the grief group.”

Ben sighs. The song changes, but his mother makes no effort to let him go. He only now realizes the dancing was probably a trap. “I missed the meeting; I was caught up picking things up for Rose in the city. I ran into Amilyn though, and I told her I would be on time next week.”

“Hmm,” Leia hums. “Do you talk to Amilyn about anything else?”

The look she’s giving him is too expectant. “Have you already talked to her?”

Leia, never one to beat around the bush, simply says, “She may have texted me.”

“She just said that I would probably benefit from talking to people in a similar place as me and that she hopes I participate next week. You know, typical therapist response.”

He purposively avoids mentioning the girl to his mom; something about it makes him want to keep her for himself, at least for now. It’s bad enough he brought it up to Rose. She seems to accept the answer, however, and they continue to sway with the crowd around them. 

The next song finally comes to an end and this time, Leia relinquishes Ben from her embrace. She pats him on the cheek, her many rings feeling cool against his skin, and slips into the crowd mumbling something about talking to an ambassador.

Ben makes his way off the dancefloor, suddenly very concerned about leaving Rose alone with his equipment for too long.

* * *

Rey’s least favorite day of the week Thursday. Past the halfway point of Wednesday and very much Not Friday, Thursdays always seemed to laze along extra slowly, as if it intends to make you more aware of its Thursday-ness.

It also doesn’t help that Thursday is donation day. Maz, having gotten tired of sorting through donated books every day of the week, decided years ago that people can only bring books in on one day. The Book Mine has been a staple in their little town for as long as anyone could remember, much longer than Rey has lived here, and most members are well acquainted with the policy.

Which is how Rey finds herself on one side of the “U” shaped counter that takes up most of the front room of the building, sorting through stacks of books brought in today. The sorting itself is tedious, looking at each book’s genre and condition, flipping through the texts looking for missing pages or mysterious stains. It’s also interesting to see what people use as bookmarks; Rey has built up quite a collection of old receipts, drawings, notes, business cards, and candy wrappers found between pages.

The best part of sorting, and Thursdays, however, is that Rey gets first dibs on any of the new books. It’s a system that started five years ago when Rey first moved to the town, and Maz noticed that Rey spent hours browsing the stacks and reading, but never bought anything. The kind, small woman took Rey in, gave her a job, and told her that she could take any book she wanted from the freshly donated pile.

Today’s haul wasn’t the largest, the cold weather keeping the store pretty empty, but Rey was finding a few interesting pieces. First being an ancient-looking travel book about Ireland that she quickly put into her keep pile, then a few Black Panther comics that she hasn’t read yet, along with a gorgeous collection of Shakespeare’s work with a gold embossed cover.

She’s looking at a beat-up copy of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ , debating if it’s worth keeping and giving to Finn for his school’s library, when Kaydel comes walking in from the backrooms of the store. She’s agitated, blonde hair spilling out of the buns on the top of her head, and she sits at the stool behind the register with a huff.

“What’s up, Kay?” Rey asks, still flipping through the pages of the book in front of her.

“Oh, the elf section fell again. Maz really should replace that old shelf, I have to pick it up at least once a week.”

Rey looks up at Kaydel now, noticing her lack of makeup and solid black dress. Rey suspects more than a faulty shelf to be bothering Kaydel, as usually the young woman is made up and dress so colorfully that it sometimes hurts Rey’s eyes.

Rey spends a beat debating if she’s mentally prepared for whatever is really bothering the blonde and decides that whatever she says is probably less annoying than having to hear her sigh and groan the rest of the day.

“Is that all that’s bothering you?”

Kaydel whips around to face Rey, her beautiful face screwed up in pained expression. “I had the most awful date last night.”

“Oh?” says Rey, unsure how to respond.

“Yeah, it was a total disaster. It was a blind date, right? And I’m so excited because, like, what if he’s the one! We get to the restaurant, I’m feeling cute, and when he arrives, we go for a handshake immediately. But, when our hands touch – nothing! Which is disappointing, but he’s pretty good looking and the restaurant is nice so we could still enjoy the date, right?”

Rey knows Kaydel isn’t looking for an answer so she just nods.

“The guy is a total dick for the rest of the night! He doesn’t ask anything about me, eats super quickly, and then insists on splitting the bill because my drink was more expensive than his! Like, I get it, I’m not your soulmate. But I’m still a lady, you know?”

“Yeah, that sucks, I’m sorry,” said Rey, still unsure how to respond. She can’t even remember the last time she went on a date, much less a bad one.

“I think I should just give up on dating for now, like, I’ll find my soulmate when I’m meant to and trying to speed up the process isn’t working. You don’t have a soulmate yet either, right?”

Kaydel expects a real answer this time, but all Rey can say is “Not yet.”

“Well, you have the right idea then.”

The conversation is, thankfully, ended there when a woman comes into the store in a panic looking for a book on ancient Mesopotamia. Rey, knowing the shop better than Kaydel, leads the woman into the stacks in search of the right book.

Rey avoids talking to Kaydel about dates or soulmates for the rest of the day, instead spending the rest of her shift sorting and shelving. The conversation lingers with her though, making her antsy and jumpy. The only one who knows about her soulmate situation at work is Maz, and that’s only because Finn had to call her to let her know Rey won’t be coming into work for a few days when she first found out.

When the day ends, Rey takes her tote bag of books back to her and Finn’s apartment and eats the chicken and rice dish Finn had made for dinner as they divvy up the books she brought on the kitchen table. If her roommate notices anything about her mood, he doesn’t say anything. 

Later, when curled up on her bed attempting to read, Rey finds her mind drifting back to the conversation with Kaydel. She doesn’t know why it’s not settling well with her. She thinks maybe it’s because she’s uncomfortable lying, but no, she’s been lying about that sort of thing to people for months. She often finds Kaydel superficial, but she agrees that her date had gone badly.

Unable to figure out the cause of the little nagging feeling, Rey eventually falls asleep.

***  
Rey awakes late Friday morning (actually closer to early afternoon) feeling restless. Usually more than happy to spend her day off reading or napping or watching TV, she finds herself pacing the small, empty apartment, looking for things to clean or fix.

When the toaster no longer gets stuck and the floor is shining, Rey decides to go to the only other place she can think of, Plutt’s Mechanics.

Rey had worked at Plutt’s before starting at Maz’s, as a too skinny eighteen-year-old with a penchant for fixing things. The pay was truly awful, and the hot, smelly auto shop left grease in her hair and scrapes along her arms, but Plutt still lets Rey pick up random shifts whenever she wants, even if she spends most of her time at the Book Mine.

When she gets to the shop, she immediately heads towards the oldest, most beat-up truck she could find. Plutt himself is working on the blue Silverado, his face sweaty and red, and almost looks relieved when he sees Rey walk up. He hands her the wrench in his hands, gives her a nod, and head back towards his office.

She works on the truck all afternoon, replacing damaged parts and scraping rust off the underside. It’s dull work, but it allows Rey to turn her brain off for a little while as her hands do the job. She gets so invested in what she is doing that she doesn’t notice the golden light of sunset filtering in through the dirty windows.

She doesn’t even realize she missed the grief group until she’s on her way home, driving through the dark town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really really love the Ben/Rose dynamic. I hope you enjoyed the little bit of world-building in this chapter, it was fun to write!  
> I plan to keep a posting schedule of every 3-4 days, so keep an eye out for an update on Monday. 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: [Forforcesakes](https://forforcesakes.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I procrastinate on this? Yes.  
> Am I still very excited about this chapter? HELL YES.  
> Let's get this reylo ball rolling.

Ben was in a sour mood for the entire week following the group meeting.

He feels kind of silly about it actually, knowing there is no reason for him to feel the way he does. When Leia cornered him in the kitchen the following Saturday morning, asking too many questions too early, all he could really say was that the meeting was ‘just okay’.

Which is was. Totally and completely okay. He was fifteen minutes early and spent the time sitting in the school parking lot, running his hands through his hair, and debating if Leia was right about him needing a haircut. When he finally went into the building, his hands only slightly shaking, he was greeted by a smiling Amilyn. She patted him on the shoulder as he found a seat in one of the ridiculously small desk chair combos and told him that she’s proud of him for coming.

The rest of the group settled in and with a quick glance, a knot of disappointment formed in the pit of Ben’s stomach. He was the youngest member of the group by a sizable margin and there wasn’t any sign of a girl even close to his age.

Rey’s wasn’t there. But he has no right to be disappointed, he doesn’t even _know_ her.

The rest of the meeting was fine. The group was welcoming and kind, giving him encouraging smiles as he introduced himself and talked a little about his soulmate situation. He didn’t talk much after that, and much to Rose’s disappointment, he definitely didn’t cry.

No, instead, he sat, uncomfortably cramped in his seat, and attempted to will the knot in his stomach to go away. He was not creepy, he doesn’t know her, he doesn’t care.

Ben repeats that mantra to himself all week, over and over again, until he almost convinces himself that he actually doesn’t care. Would it be nice to talk to someone that could possibly understand him and what he is feeling? Sure. Is he getting tired of his mother telling him he should make more friends (other than Poe), just like she did when he was younger? Absolutely.

Is Leia going to let Ben skip the meeting later tonight?

“No.”

“But Mom –”

“Benjamin Organa Solo, you are too old to whine like this. Amilyn is expecting you and you’ve been pissy all week. It seems like you could use someone to talk to,” said Leia, fixing him with an icy stare over her coffee cup.

Ben fights the urge to groan and put his head in his hands. He noticed since moving back home he keeps slipping into the same behaviors he used as a too-angsty teenager. “I have not been pissy.”

“Oh, you totally have,” says Poe as he rummages in the refrigerator. “Not even BeeBee is cheering you up.”

Ben looks down at the chubby corgi looking up at him from the floor, big brown eyes begging for a bite of the eggs and bacon he has on his plate. He reaches down to scratch behind his ears and slips the dog a scrap of food while Poe’s back is turned.

“You know I told you to stop bringing BeeBee over here, Poe,” said Leia, rolling her eyes. “He makes Threepio nervous.”

“Everything makes that damn cat nervous. Do you have any more orange juice?” asks Poe, closing the door of the refrigerator. 

“If you don’t see it there, we don’t have it. You might have some at your own house though”

Poe comes up to Leia and gives her a quick peck on the cheek. “Aw,” he says, sliding into the chair next to Ben at the kitchen counter, “but then you wouldn’t get to see me, and I know you love me deep down Leia. I’m much more fun than Benny over here.”

Ben watches, amused, as Leia rolls her eyes again. Poe has been coming over to the Solo’s house since he and Ben met in middle school when both boys had wealthy politician families and a propensity for getting into trouble. Leia always worried that Poe was a bad influence on Ben, but Han just about worshiped him. They both were cut from the same, speed-loving, charming cloth – a fact that made younger Ben rage with jealously. It took years of Ben following in Poe’s footsteps, almost getting suspended from high school or embarrassing himself in front of girls to realize that Poe was just as nerdy and nervous as Ben was, he was just way better at hiding it.

“I’ll go with you Ben, it’ll be fun! Plus, it’s a grief group, so everyone is single,” said Poe, giving a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

“No!” said Ben. He wanted to wince at his own voice. Both Leia and Poe’s eyes were on him, giving him inquisitive looks. “I’ll go alone.”

“Good,” said Leia, a note of finality in her voice. Ben knew there was no getting out of the meeting now, and once again he feeling like a child.

“Let me know if there are any soulmate-less hotties,” said Poe as he reaches to take a slice of bacon off Ben’s plate.

This time Ben really does groan and put his head down.

***  
He is sitting in the awful desk/chair combo, silently cursing whoever invented the damn things. Did his legs bunch up under him this much in high school? He must look ridiculous, like an adult trying to sit in a seat for a child. Or maybe he’s still feeling the aftereffects of his mother chastising him like a kid again that morning.

He’s perfectly on time today, not late or ridiculously early, so most of the desks are already filled with the same faces that he saw last week. Amilyn is settling in at the head of the circle and she gives Ben a kind nod.

There’s no sign of any girl.

The room quiets and everyone’s gaze turns towards the purple-haired woman. Amilyn takes a breath, but before she could start her sentence, the door to the cafeteria bursts open.

Everyone, including Ben, looks up at the sudden interruption. The first thing he notices is the young woman’s jacket, a black fuzzy thing that does not look warm enough to combat the icy January weather outside. The girl is young, in her early 20’s, and her dark chestnut hair is pulled into three buns at the back of her head.

“Sorry,” the girl mumbles as she slides into the open desk near the door. Her scuffed black boots squeak across the floor and she doesn’t look up at the rest of the group.

“It’s alright Rey, I’m glad to see you,” said Amilyn, “Let’s get started then, shall we? Anyone have any thoughts or interactions lately they want to discuss?”

Ben starts to tune out the severe-looking blonde woman that begins talking and instead sneaks a look at Rey.

Her arms and legs are both crossed, and her round face is expressionless as she listens to the rest of the group talk. Ben is struck at how young she looks, and he feels a pang of pity for her losing her soulmate so early in her life. _I wonder if that’s what people think when they see me,_ he muses. He wonders if Rey hates pity from others as much as he does. 

Ben tries to listen to what is being said around him, but his mind keeps drifting. He snaps to attention, however, when Amilyn speaks up.

“What about you, Rey?”

Her eyes go wide, making her look even younger for a moment, but she sits up a bit taller and clears her throat.

“I had a kind of weird moment last week,” said Rey, and Ben takes note of the slight English accent angling her words. “I was working at the bookstore and my coworker was complaining about a bad date. She said I was lucky that I hadn’t found my soulmate yet, that I was doing the right thing by not going out and searching for them. It felt weird, lying to her, but I couldn’t bear the idea of telling her than my soulmate died before I even met them. I knew she would be nice about it, but her sympathy would have made me uncomfortable.”

She trails off towards the end as if she is unsure why she is saying what she is. But Ben is glad she’s speaking up. He knows exactly what she means. So, when Amilyn asks if anyone relates to what Rey has said, Ben hears himself, almost involuntarily, saying, “I do.”

* * *

Rey had decided she wasn’t going to go to the grief group anymore. Finn decided that was stupid and dropped her off in front of the school Friday evening. It took three days’ worth of convincing that he didn’t need to come in with her again. If he just wasn’t so goddamn sincere all the time, it would make ignoring him so much easier.

Finn blows her a kiss from his car and calls that he will pick her up in an hour. As Rey waves him off and heads into the building, she feels childish, like a kid going to their first day of school. She lingers outside the door of the cafeteria for a few minutes, wasting time checking her phone. She knows the meeting will be starting soon but it takes her another minute to work up the courage to walk in.

Everyone looks up briefly when the doors fall open and she hurries to sit down. She glances at Amilyn who greets her with a smile before diving into the meeting. The rest of the group looks the same, somber faces of those who are soulmate-less like her. The only addition is a man, younger than the others but a little older than her, with dark hair, scrunched into a desk across from hers in the circle. She doesn’t pay him much attention, she doesn’t pay anyone attention actually, instead, daydreaming about the dinner Finn promised her and the book she has crammed into the bag at her feet.

When Amilyn calls Rey out, she finds herself talking about the conversation she had with Kaydel last week. It slipped out without her thinking about it, but once she said the words, she realized how true they were. No one in the group would probably relate fully to what she’s saying, though; they all knew their soulmates for years. They wouldn’t feel ashamed to tell people that they lost them.

So, when the tall man with dark hair says, ‘I do’, Rey looks up to find him looking directly at her.

Her skin prickles with the sudden attention. She notices how dark his eyes are, like his hair, stark against his pale skin.

“I don’t tell anyone about my soulmate dying either,” he says, his voice deeper than Rey expected. “I never met them, so most people aren’t sure how to act around me. I don’t lie, but I don’t want their pity. But it’s hard to avoid the conversation when it seems like so much around you revolves around soulmates.”

Rey nods but she doesn’t say anything. Dr. Holdo opens the conversation back up to the rest of the group, but Rey is, again, not listening.

This man is like her. Most people meet their soulmates around their age, thrust together by whatever Devine intervention that is responsible, but he never got his. The thought is…comforting. She instantly feels guilty for feeling that way. It’s not fair to this guy to have part of his life ripped away before he even got a chance.

She’s glad he’s there, though, if nothing else to prove that she’s not the only one in the entire world in this situation, despite how it often feels that way.

They keep making eye contact through the rest of the meeting, his dark eyes catching hers as they slide from person to person in the circle. She wonders what he’s thinking; if he’s thinking about her. Maybe he knows others that lost their soulmate as they did, maybe he’s got friends and family and a girlfriend, maybe he’s not alone.

When Dr. Holdo makes her closing remarks, words lost on Rey, she notices a text from Finn saying he’s waiting outside. As she gathers her jacket and bag, the dark-headed stranger catches her eye once again. He takes a step towards her, maybe to say something, but Rey turns on her heels and practically runs out of the room.

She doesn’t want to know what he was going to say, and besides, Finn is waiting.

***  
Rey doesn’t think much of the grief meeting after that night. When Finn asked her about it at dinner afterward, she gave him vague, off-hand answers. He seemed pleased that she spoke up, but she knew he could tell something was off. She didn’t see the point in mentioned the other guy, the one like her. She had already decided she wasn’t going to go to any more meetings, no matter how convincing Finn is.

For the rest of the week, Rey busies herself in the Book Mine. Maz has her reorganizing the shelves on World War II, and that takes her days. On Wednesday, the gray clouds have cleared enough to let streaks of sunlight in through the front windows. The light is tinged yellow by the dirty glass, but it matches the color of the worn-in books on the shelves.

Rey has always found being surrounded by books comforting. Their cracked, colorful spines create a labyrinth waiting to be discovered, and Rey expertly weaves her way through the tall bookshelves. The store is quiet except for the hum of the heat and the gentle ringing of the bell above the front door, and Rey finds her mind wandering as she puts books back where they belong. 

She is so caught up in the soothing repetition of shelving that she doesn’t notice the tall man walking through the aisles until she hears him clear his throat.

She startles at the small sound, amplified by the quiet of the stacks, dropping the pile of books she is carrying in her arms.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She finally looks up, noticing dark hair and eyes. Before she can catch herself, she blurts out, “What are you doing here?”

If he’s surprised by her bluntness, he doesn’t show it. Instead, the man she saw at the grief group bends down and picks up the books on the floor, handing them back to her with his head low.

“I’m, uh, looking for a book.”

“What kind of book?” she asks. He is looking at her with a strange expression on his face, a mix of surprise and something else she can’t identify.

“A book about space?” He says, but it sounds like a question.

She looks up at him, really looks up because, _good god, he’s tall_ , noticing the beauty marks on his skin and the way his ears stick out from under his hair. “I can help you with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliff hanger, but YAY!! They finally meet!! And I couldn't resist a trope-y meet-cute.  
> Let me know what book Rey should recommend Ben in the next chapter. 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at [Forforcesakes!](https://forforcesakes.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is coming a little behind schedule but I'm glad to finally post this chapter! Rey's part is a little shorter but I really like Ben's perspective this time around.

There are three bookstores in their little town. There’s one near the Solo’s home, off the main street, a large chain with bright florescent lights and books neatly set up on displays. He does a lap around the store, taking in the smell of coffee from the attached café, trying to convince himself he isn’t looking for dark hair in three buns.

He heads next to a bookstore/coffee shop hybrid on a side road, a newer addition to the sleepy northeastern town. It’s popular among the younger crowd, string lights hanging from the ceiling, and colorful murals making it an Instagram hotspot. He hopes to have better luck here, but he doesn’t recognize anyone behind the coffee counter and their book selection is so sparse Ben thinks it’s blasphemous to call it a bookstore. He does get a coffee, however, a sweet, chocolatey thing made by a redheaded barista that lets her fingers linger too long on his as she handed him the cup.

He decides to walk to the final store, a secondhand shop popular with locals right on the main street. It’s a nice day, the sun finally shining through dingy clouds, and Ben sips his coffee as he walks along the quiet sidewalk.

Nervousness bubbles up his chest briefly, finally catching up to him. He left the house suddenly, grumbling an excuse about meeting Poe to Rose and Leia, determined to shake the restless, antsy feeling that had lingered under his skin for days. Unable to read or watch TV or edit photos, he got into the car and started to drive.

He could almost convince himself going to the first store was a coincidence, he has been reading more in the past year at home than he has since high school and the only things he hasn’t touched yet are Leia’s collection of romance novels. The second bookstore could be explained as a way to procure coffee, though the overly sweet drink in his hands could hardly be categorized as such.

He has no explanation as to why he’s heading to the last bookstore, Maz’s Book Mine. The walk is nice, and it feels good to be out of the house, but his feet move without him thinking. He opens the glass door, noting the small bell that rings above his head, and then promptly turns on his heels and walks back out.

He saw her, Rey, the stoic girl from the group, slipping between bookshelves. And then he ran out of the store.

He paces back and forth, slowly making his way further and further from the store, trying to decide what to do. He’s made it this far, purely on impulse, but all plans melted from his head the second he saw the three chestnut brown buns on the back of her head.

Would she think he’s creepy? The bookstore is a common enough place to see people, and Maz’s is fairly popular. He really could use some more reading material…

He starts walking back towards the shop, pausing only to throw away the half-drunk coffee in his hands. He doesn’t need the caffeine; his heart is racing fast enough on its own.

The bell jingles above his head once again, and this time he pushes past the front door into a large room with each wall covered, floor to ceiling, with books. A “U” shaped counter sits at the front, parts of it made of glass displaying ancient-looking texts, and a blonde girl in her early twenties sits behind a retro cash register reading a magazine. She barely glances at Ben.

He doesn’t see Rey.

The whole room is bathed in golden light, and the air smells musty and sweet from the secondhand pages. The front of the store has a few tables with more popular bestsellers, but the rest of the store seems to be multiple rooms filled with sagging bookshelves. It reminds Ben of the antique stores he used to visit with his mom, like a house with a hodgepodge of mismatched rooms, though much more crowded and cramped. He’s suddenly very aware of his size as he steps into the stacks, his shoulders almost brushing the spines of the books.

He wonders for a few minutes, noticing the labels written in scrawled handwriting on the shelves attempting to organize the sheer massive number of books by very specific genres. “Female Pirates” next to “Vintage Anatomy”, books on “Navy Training” right above “British Serial Killers”. It’s the kind of organized chaos that Leia would instantly be in love with and he makes a mental note to tell her about it later.

Ben gets so caught up in reading the genres and amusing titles he almost walks right past Rey.

She’s at the end of the aisle that he just turned into, and Ben freezes. He turns towards the shelves, attempting to look like a casual shopper, but it seems like the girl doesn’t notice him at all. He takes the opportunity to sneak a glance.

She’s holding a stack of about a dozen books, all different sizes and shapes. She’s expertly putting them on the shelves, and he can tell she has worked here a long time as she barely glances at the genres. Her face is more relaxed than it was in the grief group, almost serene, and he notes the perfection of her profile. The straight, slightly upturned nose with a smattering of freckles, high cheekbones, pink lips – Ben suddenly finds himself longing for his camera -- if nothing else to capture the golden light reflecting in her eyes and the gentle caress of her fingers against the spines of the books.

He clears his throat, mouth suddenly dry, and the sound amplifies in the close quarters. Rey startles, dropping the stack of books in her arms.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” He says, careful to keep his voice steady. “I didn’t mean to scare you.’

She looks up from the floor then, and he could almost see the flicker of recognition her hazel eyes. Does she remember him? Is she disappointed? Creeped out?

“What are you doing here?”

God, he forgot about the accent.

He takes a few steps towards her and starts picking up the books she dropped, if nothing else to give him a moment to think. He hands the stack back to her, careful not to touch her hand as he does.

“I’m, uh, looking for a book.” Okay good, that makes sense, it is a bookstore after all.

“What kind of book?” She asks.

Oh, shit. He hadn’t thought that far in advance.  
“A book about space?” It comes out more like a question than he intended, but Rey only looks up at him.

“I can help you with that.” The corners of her mouth turn up slightly, the first hint of a smile that Ben has seen from her. “What kind of book about space are you looking for?”

“What do you mean?” Fuck, he really should have thought this through.

Rey shifts the books in her arms. Ben’s hand’s twitch towards her as if to help, but he stops himself.

“Well,” she says, “there’s tons of non-fiction if you just want to learn about straight-up space. Fiction, fantasy, sci-fi – those are more fun if you don’t want something educational.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I can show you some of my favorites from each genre if you want. Just give me a little bit to finish shelving.” Her smile has slipped from her lips, her freckled face the same impassive mask it was during the meeting. He wishes he knew what she was thinking.

“I can help you with that.” He’s unsure why he says it, parroting her words back to her, and for a second he regrets it when a small wrinkle forms between her brows.

“Oh, that’s okay. I can do it on my own.”

“Really, I don’t mind.” He hopes his voice is as genuine as he feels.

“Okay,” she says after a beat. “I’ll show you some books at the same time, so it wouldn’t be a total waste of your time.”

Ben then found himself following Rey around the bookstore for the better part of an hour. He carried the stack of books for her, handing them to her as they walked through the aisles. Ben was right about Rey working at the store for a long time as he watches her weave in between the bookshelves effortlessly, going from room to room without so much as glancing at the signs.

She also handed him books about space, thin paperbacks about the planets, and a fictional book about a man on Mars. She even handed him a few Galaxy Wars books, though Ben didn’t have the heart to tell her he had the entire collection in his room back home.

He found it comfortable in the Book Mine, trailing behind Rey. The sun was setting outside the glass windows, casting long, dark shadows, and it was quiet except for the hum of the heat and the gentle _shoosh_ of books sliding against one another. They didn’t talk much, just about the books in their hands, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though Ben still found himself often wondering what Rey was thinking. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t seem to outwardly mind his company.

“Thank you,” Ben says as Rey is ringing him up later. The antsy feeling left him ages ago, and he finds himself truly excited about the new books he has collected. He has a feeling she handed some of the books to him as a joke, probably to see if he would take them, but he can’t help but be a little curious about the gravitational pulls of various planets, or the interworkings of a black hole.

It also felt good to get out of the house, to talk to someone other than his mother or Poe.

She gives him one of her half-smiles as she hands him the bag of books (she even convinced him to purchase a reusable canvas tote) and when Ben tells her “I’ll see you later” he means it. His steps out of the store into the frigid evening air feel lighter, even if the bag on his shoulder is quite heavy.

* * *

He has a scar bisecting the left side of his face, starting a little above his eyebrow and disappearing under the collar of his dark gray sweater that looks like it cost an entire month’s rent. Rey didn’t notice it during the meeting but now that he’s in front of her, only a few feet away, she can see it against his pale skin.

His voice is also deeper than she remembers, its low resonance bouncing against the nearby shelves more than in the large, mostly empty cafeteria. He doesn’t talk much though, instead watching Rey with his dark eyes as they make their way through the store. It would be unnerving if he didn’t seem so well-meaning, his cheeks wrinkling around his mouth in a small smile every time Rey hands him another book.

And she hands him a lot of books – nonfiction, sci-fi, thick hardbacks, and weathered paperbacks. She even throws in a few of her favorite Galaxy Wars novelizations just to see how he would react, and she finds a little bit of pleasure when his eyes light up.

“You know, you never told me your name,” she said while taking some books out of his hand to put on the shelf in front of them.

He looks up, startled, from the book he was reading in his hand (yes, just one -- the man is so large he can hold a hardback easily in one giant hand). “Shit, that’s so rude of me. My name is Ben. Ben Solo.”

Ben. Huh. The name seems innocent compared to the hulking man in front of her in expensive clothes.

“I’m Rey Johnson.”

He gives her another small smile, crooked teeth peeking out from pink lips. He has an interesting face, bold features that shouldn’t work together but do on him, framed by dark hair than hangs in inky waves to his chin. When he turns back towards the book in his hand, she sees a glimpse of large ears hidden beneath the hair, and the sight amuses her.  
“How long have you worked here?” He asks.

Rey hesitates a second, reluctant to reveal anything to this almost stranger. She glances towards him and almost smiles at the excited way he flips through a Galaxy Wars comic. There is something very genuine about Ben.

“I’ve been here for about 5 years.”

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“I love it. I like being surrounded by books.”

He nods in understanding.

“What about you?” She asks. “What do you do?”

Something like a grimace passes over his face, like a storm cloud blocking out the sun. “I’m a photographer, though I’ve been out of commission for a little while.”

She wonders if that has anything to do with his scar, but she knows better than to ask.

“We have a section on photography in the back if you’re interested,” she says.

“No, I’m good,” Ben says, lifting the stack of books she’s given him in his arms.

“You don’t have to get all of those, you know.” She feels a little guilty loading him up with books, but he really should have known how vast the subject of space is.

“Oh, I’m absolutely getting them all.” He says it almost incredulously like he is scandalized by the idea.

And he does. Rey rings up all 14 books and even convinces him to get one of their reusable canvas bags with the words “Maz’s Book Mine” printed across it. He charges all of it to a shiny credit card, gives her one last half-smile, and walks out of the door with the tote bag hung over his broad shoulder and his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans.

When his large frame disappears past the window, Rey lets out a breath and leans her hips against the counter. What a strange interaction. It wasn’t uncomfortable; it was almost peaceful to have Ben accompany her around the store, but something felt very intimate about it. It’s probably because they already know each other’s deepest secret, their lost soulmates, so every conversation, every little bit of information, feels like it’s just building off of that.

She feels a pang of pity for Ben, similar to when she first saw him in the meeting, that he never got a chance to be with his soulmate. She was probably just as gentle and soft-spoken as he is, as well as tall.

Kaydel comes rushing from the back of the store suddenly, a blur of blonde hair and pink sweater, and she catapults herself onto the counter next to Rey.

“Oh my god, Rey, who was that total _babe_ that was with you?” she asks. She crosses her legs and leans forward, and it reminds Rey of the sleepovers girls have in the old 80’s movies that Finn loves to watch. Kaydel looks like she could burst into song any minute.

“His name is Ben.”

“Ooh, Ben. That’s a cute name.”

Rey wonders what constitutes a cute name.

“How do you know him? Is he single?” asks Kaydel, her mascaraed lashes blinking dreamily.

Rey debates for a second if she should tell the truth about Ben, about him being technically single. He doesn’t come off of the dating type and the fact that he’s attending a grief group doesn’t exactly scream ‘I want a hookup”.

“We met at school.” Technically not a lie, they met at _a_ school. “And he’s not single, actually.”

“Damn, all the hot one’s area already soulmated up.” Kaydel sighs.

***

Later that night, Rey is curled up on the fraying sofa across from Finn, who’s frustration she can visibly see increasing with every paper he grades. The TV is playing Gilmore Girls re-runs and her stomach is full of Chinese takeout and she’s still thinking about Ben.

Will he expect her to talk to him at the meeting on Friday? Are they friends now? Finn was the last friend Rey made and that was only because they moved in together immediately – they lucked out in that they actually like each other.

“Hey, Finn?”

He puts down the pen and paper in his lap but continues to read it and glances over at Rey. “What’s up, Peanut?”

She sits up, pulling the blanket that was across her lap higher like a shield. “I ran into someone from grief group today at Maz’s”

“Huh,” said Finn, still frowning at the paper.

“His name is Ben, he’s younger. Not as old. He lost his soulmate like I did.” She says the last part in a rush.

“Really?” Finn has his full attention on Rey now. He’s giving her his teacher face, trying to seem open and approachable while still looking like an authority figure.

“Yeah, he was nice. He helped me shelve and I gave him books about space.” She doesn’t know what she brought it up to Finn, maybe to try to make sense of it.

“Well, that’s cool, it’s probably good to talk and hang out with people who can relate to you, you know? Are you gonna see him again?”

“I don’t know, I’ll probably see him on Friday. We didn’t talk about any of the soulmate stuff.”

Finn shrugs. “You don’t have to, you could just have someone to sit next to in the meeting and listen to you complain about how uncomfortable the desks are."

Rey remembers Ben’s long legs cramped under the desk last week; he probably hates them more than she does.

“Yeah, you’re right. It was just kinda weird.”

“You’re allowed to make other friends, Peanut. You’re overthinking.” He’s staring at the papers in his lap again, signaling the end of the conversation.

She is overthinking.

She tried to push the time with Ben out of her mind the next day, focusing on sorting through donated stacks of books. If she happens to put a space-themed picture book to the side, well, maybe she could give it to Finn for his classroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love so far! 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at [Forforcesakes](https://forforcesakes.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute but I'm back lol

“Do you want me to drop you off?” Finn is leaning against the doorframe of their tiny bathroom, eating a piece of pizza, and wearing fuzzy sweatpants. Rey wishes for the fifteenth time that day that she could skip the grief meeting, but the thought of enduring Finn’s omnipresent disappointment is harder to bear than having to put on real pants on her day off.

“No, I’ll drive myself.” Rey gives up on fighting her layered hair into a ponytail, settling for pulling half of it up and securing it with a clip. “I might grab dinner with Kaydel after, so I’ll need my car.”

The lie slips past her lips easily. She isn’t sure why she says it, maybe to drive the point in that she’s okay and doesn’t need Finn’s loving but constant hovering.

She brushes past him, pulling on a faded yellow sweatshirt and yanking on her boots.

“Cool, I didn’t want to drive you anyway,” Finn says, a smile in his voice. “Your hair looks nice, by the way, you should wear it down more.”

Rey feels a blush creep across her cheeks, and she avoids Finn’s eyes as she grabs her keys in hopes that he doesn’t see. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye Peanut, have fun,” said Finn, as if Rey is going to a party and not to a therapy group to talk about dead soulmates.

She is uneasy as she drives, nervousness creeping up her spine and making her shiver despite the heat blasting, and her mind wanders over to Ben. She hasn’t seen him since he came by the Book Mine on Wednesday, not that she was expecting him to, and she hopes there won’t be any awkwardness between them. It was comfortable and easy in the store but that might not translate to the sterile and vulnerable therapy group.

Her uneasiness lingers with her as she drives to the empty high school, parking away from the few other cars in the parking lot. She stalls in her car until almost the very last minute, watching the glowing digital clock on her dashboard creep closer and closer to 5:00. 

When she can no longer stand to scroll through Instagram and the clock reads 4:58, she heads into the school, wrapping her arms around herself against the cool dusk air.

The hallway is empty when she passes through the heavy double doors of the entrance, her boots echoing against walls covered in posters for clubs and signs about an approaching drama performance. She turns a corner, heading towards the cafeteria, and notices a figure leaning against the lockers, his dark jacket stark against the bright blue metal.

Ben looks up at her from whatever he is fiddling with in his hands—she couldn’t see it before he slips it into his coat pocket—and gives her a small, bashful smile.

“Hey.”

She’s only a few feet away from him now, arms still wrapped around her middle, and she hovers between him and the door. “Hey. How are you?”

“I’m alright. Been reading a good bit, thanks again for the suggestions the other day.”

“I’m glad you liked them,” Rey says. They slip into a beat of silence and she wonders if he can hear her heart beating against her ribs.

“So, uh, should we head in—”  
“Do you want to get out of here?”

His dark eyes meet with hers, questioning. “What?”

She feels a blush start slithering up her neck, like a boa constrictor trying to choke her. She didn’t mean for it to sound so suggestive. “I don’t really feel up to this,” she says, gesturing towards the door of the meeting that has to be already started. “Do you want to go somewhere? Maybe get something to eat?”

It’s like watching a balloon deflate, how the tension leaves his body. “Yes,” he says, voice dripping with relief, “I want to go somewhere.”

“Cool, let's go.” She starts heading out towards the door, glancing back after a few steps to see Ben still standing by the door with his hands in his pockets. “You coming?”

There is a second of awkwardness in the parking lot, debating whose car to take, but Ben takes one glance at Rey’s beat-up maroon Camry before suggesting taking his car.

“This isn’t some elaborate ruse to get me into your car and kidnap me, is it?” she asks as Ben unlocks the door to a shiny black Jeep Grand Cherokee. “Is your name even Ben Solo?”

She watches his cheeks dimple into a smile, a real one. “You caught me. My MO is brunettes with accents.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that episode of Criminal Minds and I don’t think it ends up too well for you.”

Before Ben could respond, Rey is sliding into the plush leather seats (also black, of course), gliding her hand against the smooth door handle.

So, Ben is like, _rich_ rich.

She figured as much, with his expensive-looking outerwear and well-fitting jeans, but this seems a little over a photographer’s budget. Maybe he is a fashion photographer, taking pictures of gorgeous models with legs as long as Rey is tall.

Ben clears his throat as he pulls out of the school, turning towards Main Street. “What are you hungry for?”

“Anything. Everything. Cake.”

He hears him scoff but she’s still looking at the interior of the car, resisting the urge to poke at the touchscreen in the middle of the console. 

“How about Biscotti’s? It has a little of everything and their cakes are incredible.”

She’s only been there once, at a brunch for Kaydel’s birthday, and all she remembers is regretting ordering orange juice because of how expensive it was for such a small glass. Ben could probably afford to eat there for every meal.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Maybe she can order off the kid’s menu.

The drive is short, only a few minutes, but it’s enough time for Rey to start sweating through her sweatshirt. She really can’t say why she asked him if he wanted to leave the meeting, she just had a feeling he was as uncomfortable as she was sitting among all the grieving spouses in the tiny desks.

He opens the door to the restaurant for her and as she slips past him, she smells laundry detergent and mint and clean. She wonders when the last time she washed the sweatshirt she was wearing.

Biscotti’s is an Instagram influencer’s wet dream, with exposed brick walls and plants in terra cotta pots hanging among string lights across the ceiling. The tables are small, seats close together, and small groups and couples are nestled together eating plates of sandwiches and salads and cake that, dear god, really does look amazing.

“Why does everything have string lights now?” Ben mumbles as he looks around the restaurant.

“Aesthetic,” she says, giving a dramatic wiggle of her fingers.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a fire hazard.”

A hostess seats them at a table in the corner, along a floor to ceiling window facing the street, and gives them a glowing smile when she wishes them a good meal. Rey has the sudden realization that they must look like a couple, maybe soulmates out for a relaxed date night.

She looks towards the menu, in hopes of distancing herself from that thought, but she ends up feeling worse when glancing at the prices. Why is a grilled cheese twelve dollars?

“Get whatever you want, it’s my treat,” said Ben, as if he could hear her thoughts.

“But I’m the one who asked if you wanted to go to dinner.”

“And I’m the one who suggested the restaurant.”

“I can pay for myself.”

“I know. You can get it next time.”

Next time. So, he wanted to hang out again. Rey can’t remember the last time she spent time with someone other than her roommate or coworker.

He’s looking over the menu and Rey takes a moment to look at the man in front of her. He hunches his shoulders a lot for someone so tall, like he’s afraid of taking up too much space. The black coat is thrown over the back of his chair and he’s wearing a dark grey Henley with a few buttons undone, revealing a white t-shirt. So, he does own things in shades other than black.

He looks up at her. “What are you thinking of getting?”

“Grilled cheese.” It’s the first thing she thought of.

“Mmm,” he hums, turning his eyes back to the menu. “A classic.”

A waiter comes up to the table to take their order, smiling down at them in his bright white button-down. Rey orders her grilled cheese, along with a bowl of tomato soup. Ben orders some fancy salmon salad.

“How can you eat a salad when it’s so cold outside?” she asks once their orders are taken.

“I don’t usually let the weather dictate my food choices.”

“But you wouldn’t eat hot soup in the summer? Or ice cream in the winter?”

“I feel like salad is a gray area – it’s multi-seasonal.” There’s a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Fair enough,” she replies, leaning back in her chair. She holds back another teasing remark, not wanting to push this strange new friendship too far.

“What’s your favorite food?” His face is open, eyebrows raised, and he’s leaking slightly across the table.

Rey tries to school her face into something other than surprise at his question. “Uh, burgers, probably.” Getting fast food was a treat as a kid, a rarity saved for birthdays or the last day of school, and even as an adult with the ability to eat whatever she wants, something about burgers and fries feels special. “What about you?”

“Pasta.”

Huh. She expected something like steak. Or protein shakes.

Ben is still looking at her intensely, like this is the most important conversation he has ever had. “Why did you want to skip the meeting tonight?”

Rey hesitates for a second. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

Amusement sparks across Ben’s face, mixing with the shadows cast by the string lights above them. “You already did, you asked me about my favorite food.”

“That doesn’t count, I just repeated your question.”

“Hmm,” Ben hums. “Fine. We take turns asking questions, but we both answer them. That is, only if you’re comfortable.”

Something about this conversation makes Rey want to laugh, this juvenile question game they’ve developed. “Deal. And it’s my turn.”

The waiter breezes by, placing their food on the table in front of them. Rey’s stomach growls so loudly, Ben has to have heard it, but his focus is on the salad in front of him.

They both tuck into their meals, Rey ripping pieces of the thick grilled cheese to dip into her soup, struggling to contain the oozing cheese. “So, what kind of photography do you do?”

Ben looks up from his salad, where he was mixing it delicately for someone with such large hands. “I did photojournalism for a magazine, usually gritty, political stuff. I left about a year ago though, and the only thing I miss about it is the travel.”

His face looks more guarded than it did before, the skin around his eyes tightening, and he’s looking down at his plate instead of at her. Rey knows enough to tell when someone is hiding something, but it’s clear that whatever it is, Ben doesn’t want to talk about it. She files that away as a future question, however, if their game continues.

They eat in silence for a few heartbeats. The tomato soup is warming Rey up from the inside and the grilled cheese is so good, she can see why they are charging twelve bucks for it.

“You never answered my question, about wanting to leave the meeting.”

Rey doesn’t look up at Ben, though she can feel his eyes on her. She shrugs, “I just didn’t want to go.”

“I didn’t either,” Ben mumbles, almost to himself. “It was more depressing than I thought it was going to be, hearing everyone talk about their soulmates, their families. It feels like I’m infringing on something I haven’t earned the right to be a part of.”

Rey had wondered when it would come up, their broken soulmate bonds. She was planning on being blasé about it, letting it roll off of her like it doesn’t matter, like she tries to do when talking to Finn about it. She didn’t expect Ben to be so…honest. It’s almost jarring hearing him say those words out loud, despite Rey having the same thoughts for months now. She doesn’t say anything, only nods as she looks up at him.

“Are we interested in dessert?” The waiter swings by again, saving Rey from having to respond, breaking the tension. Rey gives Ben an expectant look and watches the corners of his mouth quirk up.

“I think we will take a cake menu.”

* * *

Ben has never seen someone eat so enthusiastically as Rey. While they were taking, sparring back and forth, she, quite literally, tore into her grilled cheese, scraped her bowl of soup clean, and even eyed the leftover salad on his plate, like she was debating to ask if he was going to finish that.

When they ordered cake, lemon for him and chocolate for her, he expected to take parts of their massive slices home, as they’re meant to be shared. But Rey devoured her slice, bite after bite. She only paused to ask or answer a few more rounds of their question game.

She asked his favorite color (red for him, green or yellow for her).

He asked where she grew up (she quickly answered “Arizona” before stuffing another huge bite into her mouth).

She asked if he had pets (two dogs, Artoo and Chewy, and a cat named Threepio).

He asked what her Hogwarts house was.

She pauses, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Gryffindor. And I’m not just saying that ‘because everyone wants to be a Gryffindor, like Harry’ or whatever. I’ve been told I’m a Gryffindor my whole life.”

He can see it actually; in the unabashed way she talks and the sarcastic glint in her eye as she teases him. She carries herself like she’s holding a shield and he assumes she isn’t afraid to bash someone over the head with it if she thinks they deserve it.

“What about you?”

“Well, when I was younger, I thought I was a Slytherin, though now looking back I think I was just angsty and wanted to be seen as intimidating. But I’m not so sure now, honestly,” said Ben.

Rey is scraping at the frosting on her plate, and Ben pushes the remaining third of his slice towards her. Her eyes widen, glancing between the plate and him, like she’s not sure if he is serious. He gives her a nod, and she pulls it towards her and takes a massive bite.

“Hmm,” she hums, mouth still full. “I’ll let you know what I think eventually, although your wardrobe choices do make you look quite Slytherin-ish. Something about all the black,” she says, waving her fork at him.

Ben huffs out a laugh. “Black is a neutral, it goes with everything.”

“But that doesn’t matter if all you wear it with is black.”

“I had no idea you were such a fashion expert.”

“Could you not tell?” Rey gestures towards herself, and Ben takes in her faded yellow sweatshirt, jeans, and boots. She’s wearing her hair down today and this is the first time Ben as seen it curl softly around her shoulders.

“I think you look alright,” Ben says, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.

“Oh wow, thank you. Such high complements from Mr. Magazine Photographer.”

“Hey, I take all sorts of photos. Actually—” He suddenly remembers what he stashed in his coat pocket.

He pulls out a camera, his Nikon FM2, and Rey looks at him suspiciously, like the camera will do more to her than take a picture.

“Do you just walk around with cameras stashed in your pockets?” asks Rey.

“I mean, everyone does now that all smartphones have cameras. This is a film camera, a super sturdy one from the 80’s. I used a digital camera when I was working, but now I’m trying to get back into what originally drew me to photography – the process of using and developing film, the permanence of having a small moment on paper in your hands…” Ben trails off as he looks up from his hands at Rey who’s eyes are wide as she listens. “Sorry, I don’t want to bore you.”

“You don’t bore me,” Rey says quietly.

Ben starts fiddling with the camera in his hands, taking off the lens cap, and making some adjustments to the settings. When he brings the viewfinder to his eye, he frames Rey with the inky darkness through the window behind her, reflecting the twinkling lights and creating a halo around her silhouette. She tilts her head, amused, and gives him a small smile, just the corners of her mouth turning up. The yellow in her sweater makes her eyes look more green than brown, and he notices gold highlights in her hair as it frames her face. The camera makes a small _click_ , and he lowers it back to the table.

“My turn,” said Rey, breaking the spell the camera cast on them. She grabs at the camera and Ben doesn’t even think to be concerned with her handing his equipment. He smiles as she brings it up to her eye, her fingers wrapped around the titanium body, until the shutter clicks.

“I want to see that when it’s developed,” she says as she hands him back the camera, careful to not let their fingers brush.

“Will do.”

Ben pays for the meal soon after that and a shadow passes over Rey’s face as he hands the waiter his debit card. He feels guilty, the restaurant is on the more expensive side, but he assures her that she can pay next time.

He tries not to think too hard about when the next time will be.

They walk back to his car, the night air frigid after the warmth of the restaurant, and they go back and forth on which cake was better, his or hers.

He drops her off at her car at the school parking lot, now long empty, and waits for her to get in the beat-up Camry and drive off before he heads home himself.

***

The following week is quiet at the Solo home. Leia has a while before her next event, so she and Rose spend more time lounging around the house, drinking tea, and talking about improving Leia’s “brand” online, or whatever. Ben drowns them out, instead reading or spending time in his darkroom developing the few rolls of film he has taken recently, only getting drawn into the conversation when it drifts to him.

“You need to get out more, Benny,” said Leia one afternoon. “I worry you’re spending too much time at home.”

“I get out plenty,” Ben says, trying to quickly grab a cup of coffee and get out of his mother and her assistant’s line of fire.

“Sure, sure. But you need to spend time with people your age, with friends. What’s Poe been up to lately?”

Ben tries to tally up all the times they have had a conversation like this over the past year, but it would take too long and Leia is expecting an answer. “Poe’s been promoted to editor at The Resistance actually, so he has been swamped with work.”

Leia’s face lights up. “Oh, that’s so wonderful for him. He told Rose about how they are looking for a photojournalist for their –”

“Mom, I’m not working for Poe.”

“It was just a suggestion, something to fill your time with.” Her voice softens and Ben feels a pang of guilt for shutting her down so quickly.

He takes a breath and a sip of his coffee, making sure to avoid Rose’s eyes. “Actually, I made a friend recently. From grief group.”

Both Leia and Rose look up at Ben, the same hopeful and shocked expression on their face. Damn, maybe he really should start getting out more if this is how they react to him meeting someone new.

“We got dinner after the meeting Friday,” he says, leaving out the part where they skipped the meeting entirely. “It was cool.”

“I’m glad Benny,” Leia says softly, as if Ben is a woodland creature she doesn’t want to scare off. “Do you think you’ll see them again?”

“I hope so,” said Ben.

***

That hope lingered with Ben until the following Friday. He wasn’t sure what he and Rey were going to do now, if they would head into the meeting or if there was an expectation to skip again. All he knew is that he still didn’t feel like he belongs in the meeting and he was sure Rey felt the same way.

When he walked into the school, only a few minutes early this time – the parking lot was more crowded than he expected -- he sees Rey standing in front of the cafeteria door surrounded by so many people. Since when did this many people come to grief group?

“What’s going on,” he asks as he walks up to Rey.

“Group is canceled for two weeks because they are using the auditorium portion of the cafetorium for the school play.” She gestures towards a sign on the door stating that Dr. Holdo’s meetings will resume at a later date. “Guess we missed the announcement last week.”

“Guess so,” Ben mumbles. He’s relieved for an excuse not to go but he’s not sure what that means for him and Rey. He doesn’t want to assume anything.

Rey has a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes, however. “Do you wanna go?”

“Go to what?”

“To the play?”

Ben scoffs, “I didn’t take you as a _Hairspray_ fan.”

“Well it starts in—” she checks her watch, a beat-up digital thing that looks like it has seen better days, “—Thirty minutes? That’s enough time to drive through someplace for snacks and make it in time for the opening number.”

Does Ben have any interest in musicals done by high schoolers? No. But there is something so irresistible about Rey’s enthusiasm.  
Which is exactly how Ben found himself smuggling Taco Bell in his coat pockets for the two of them to eat in the back row of the auditorium.

“If you start singing, I will get up and leave,”

Rey smiles as he hands her a quesadilla. “No promises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rey’s Car](https://carsbidshistory.com/make/360-TOYOTA/699-CAMRY_LE/2005_TOYOTA_CAMRY_LE_26540049_4T1BE32K85U387032/) (based off mine tbh)
> 
> [Ben’s Car](https://www.jeep.com/grand-cherokee.html/)
> 
> [Here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikon_FM2) is what Ben’s camera is. I literally have no knowledge of photography, so I chose this one for the *~*aesthetic*~*
> 
> [Bisccottis](https://biscottis.net//) is based on a restaurant I adore in North Fl, and yes the cakes are 10/10. 
> 
> As always, find me on Tumblr at [Forforcesakes!](https://forforcesakes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
